


Alaska Tales

by sphekso



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #ItsStillBeautiful Fest, Adding more scenes occasionally, Alaska, Alcohol, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Hannigram - Freeform, Heterosexual biromantic Will, M/M, Mention of Abigail, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, love without sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7769992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphekso/pseuds/sphekso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Hannibal survive the fall in Wrath of the Lamb and, presumed dead, move to a fishing town in Alaska to hide out. Will's purely romantic, non-sexual feelings for Hannibal confuse him, but he's still sure they're real. They settle into a nice life together as co-owners of a bar, and over time Will comes to realize that maybe innocent love is all they really need to be happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Last Call

**Author's Note:**

> I really like this set-up (especially since people rarely write Will as heterosexual/biromantic, which is canon in my mind) so I'm going to revisit it and add scenes now and then. Not exactly as a series, but as a collection of snippets of their life in Alaska. Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> This scene was originally written for @hannibalcreativ's #ItsStillBeautiful fest.

Sunday nights were Will’s favorites. He did love flexing his new talents as a bartender in the hustle of Fridays and Saturdays, but weekend nights meant new faces, and every time he saw a new face some part of him worried it might not actually be so new after all. But only the most stalwart of the bar’s regulars drank on Sundays, so it was smooth sailing in the danger department.

Not that Alaska was a particularly dangerous place to call home. True, it was in the US, but at least it wasn't contiguous. Will figured he’d be more likely to run into an old face if they’d fled to Buenos Aires like Hannibal had wanted. People would expect a man like Hannibal to move somewhere cultured. An Alaskan fishing port, though? Unthinkable. At least, it would’ve been unthinkable to anyone who’d known the old Hannibal Lecter. The new one didn't care too much about culture—or if he did, he kept it under wraps. He seemed happy here. He had Will, and that was enough.

“You’re smiling,” a woman at the bar rasped, cutting through the hazy quiet.

Will’s smile was short-lived. “Come on, Yvette. I'm sure you've seen me smile more than once by now.”

“More than once? Maybe. More than twice? Probably not.” She traced a line down the sweat on her pint glass. “So what had you smiling?”

“You’re talkative all of a sudden,” Will said testily. He’d been enjoying the quiet. “You hadn't said a word all night.”

“You’re dodging the question.”

Will thought about lying, then shrugged. What could it hurt? “I was just thinking about someone, that’s all.”

“Ah, so it finally comes out. The barman has a soul after all.”

Will shrugged again. “Out of all the usuals I’d’ve thought you’d be the first to know that. Need a refill?”

“Will it cost me?”

“Why wouldn't it?”

“’Cause I pulled a secret out of that pretty mouth of yours. A girl should get a reward, ya know?” She pushed her glass toward Will with both hands.

 “I doubt anyone's called you a ‘girl’ in a very long time,” Will teased. “But sure, it’s on the house.”

Yvette smirked, deepening the ever-present lines on her face. “I’m not as old as I look,” she said. “Between hard work and the elements, my skin never had a shot. But you wouldn't know what that's like, would ya, pretty boy?”

“If anyone else called me that I'd take it as an insult.” Will topped off her beer from the tap and set it back in front of her.

“Tell me, who were ya thinking about?”

“Drink your beer,” Will replied. “Barflies aren’t supposed to play therapist. That's my job.”

“If that’s true, you’re pretty shit at it. You’ve never once—“

“Ease off, ‘Vette,” a man said from a couple stools over. “Will’s a good man. Give him a break.”

Will scoffed a little. “Good man? You just lost your next round. You’re clearly too drunk to think straight.” The man started to protest, but Will shut him up by handing him a fresh Corona. “Relax, Nate. I’m kidding.”

“Strange way of showing it,” Nate muttered, then took a pull from the bottle. “But ‘Vette, you’re going too far.”

“Aw, he knows I'm only kidding,” Yvette said. “You do, don’t ya?”

“I do. I'm just not used to, you know, _interacting_ with anybody on a Sunday.”

Yvette frowned. “I’m in here every night I'm ashore. I'm not just anybody.”

“No, you're right. But the silence is nice sometimes.”

“Damn right it is,” Nate agreed. He wiped some foam from his heavy mustache. “Anyway, don’t much matter _who_ you were thinking about. Probly someone from before you set up here. Probly someone we’ve never even heard of.”

“Probably,” Will said, and he couldn't help but let the smile return. He also couldn't help but glance at the carefully placed mirror to the right of the limes. Hannibal looked just as he had the last time Will checked: Calm as ever, reading something on his iPad. Will wondered if it might be TattleCrime and let out an involuntary chuckle. That got Hannibal’s attention, and he raised his eyes from his tablet to meet Will’s through their little network of mirrors. He was actually in the back room, so no one but Will could see him. They held a gaze for a few moments, then dropped it as Hannibal went back to his reading and Will realized he’d laughed in front of customers.

“Another smile, and this time a _laugh_? Must be someone pretty special then,” Yvette said.

“Must be,” Nate said. “But be quiet about it. I can't hear myself drink.”

Yvette held up her hands in surrender before going back to her beer.

“You’re right,” Will told her. “It is someone special.”

Yvette’s lips tilted up. “Is it a girl? I hope she's not prettier’n me.”

“I'll pass on that one.”

“Because she _is_ prettier than me, or ‘cause she’s not a girl?”

Yvette and Nate both laughed at that. Will turned away to grimace. No one here knew he was seeing a man. A town like this wouldn't understand it. Hell, _he_ still didn't understand it. But damned if it didn't make him happy. “I think that’s last call,” he said.

“What?” Nate snapped. “It's not even one.”

“Don't be like that,” Yvette said. “I was only joking.”

“It’s just been a long weekend. Sorry, guys. Listen, don’t worry about your tabs. Just get outta here, and come see me again tomorrow.”

Yvette hissed a sigh. “Fine, fine. Suppose I can't complain, what with it being my fault and all. Should've kept my trap shut, but you looked so happy, I got curious.”

“Time to be curious somewhere else,” Nate said, sliding off his stool. “Have a good night, Will. I meant it when I said you're good.”

“Thanks,” Will said awkwardly. “Get home safe, you two.”

Yvette grunted something that might’ve been a goodbye and followed Nate out the exit.

Will didn't waste any time locking up. He never did, but especially tonight. For some reason he _had_ to see Hannibal. And, as luck would have it, he found the man himself standing before him when he turned back from the door.

“You called it an early night,” Hannibal said. He tilted his head. “Something on your mind?”

“Some _one_ is,” Will said. The smile returned to his lips. “But if you were listening in, you’d know that already.”

“You could’ve been thinking about someone else…”

“As If I could.”

Hannibal opened his arms. “Come here, Will.”

Will stepped forward gladly, and Hannibal wrapped him up without hesitation. “I missed you a lot tonight,” Will said.

“Why?” Hannibal asked. He gently stroked Will’s hair as he held him.

“Not sure,” Will replied. “But I have you now, so everything’s fine.”

“You’ll always have me.”

Will breathed deeply, inhaling Hannibal’s cologne. “You’re wonderful.”

“And you, my darling,” Hannibal said, “you’re exceptional.”

“Let’s go to bed,” Will breathed.

Hannibal pulled away and looked at him with surprised eyes. “Bed? You don’t mean you want to…?”

Will’s eyes flew equally shocked. “No, no! Nothing like that. I’m not ready for _that_. But… hold me?”

“Of course,” Hannibal said, and pulled him back into his embrace.

“Does it bother you?” Will asked. “That I can’t do… what normal gay couples do?”

“You do what you can, and that’s more than enough. I wouldn’t dream of asking for anything else. I love every part of you.”

Will smiled some more and nuzzled into Hannibal’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

They went upstairs after a few minutes. Will fell fast asleep in Hannibal’s arms. For his part, Hannibal was too content matching his breath to Will’s and feeling his heartbeat through his chest to lose a single moment of it to sleep. He could sleep later, when the bar was open. For now… it was just him and his Will.

And it was _beautiful_.


	2. The Lights in the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal relax under the northern lights.

It was a chilly night, but it didn’t particularly bother Will. That’s what parkas were for. Hannibal, on the other hand, had been shivering nonstop since sunset. Will was too entranced by the lights above them to notice.

“Doesn’t the aurora make you feel small?” he asked. Receiving no answer, he turned his head away from the sky. “Doesn’t it?” he asked again.

“It d-d-does,” Hannibal replied with chattering teeth.

“Hannibal!” Will exclaimed. “You’re shaking!”

“I’m f-f-freezing, so that’s to b-be exp-pected.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Will hopped to his feet and brushed the dirt from his jeans. “Give me a sec,” he said, and headed for their truck, leaving his boyfriend suffering behind. He popped open the trunk and rooted around a little before pulling a thick plaid blanket from under a pile of fishing gear. He slammed the trunk shut a little more loudly than he’d intended.

Hannibal jumped in surprise. He jerked his head toward the sound of the _thunk!_ to see Will heading back over, blanket in hand. “I-is that f-for me?”

Will wasted no time crouching to cocoon him in the blanket. “Better?” he asked, tucking a corner in to keep the blanket wrapped tight.

Hannibal nodded. “You’re v-very thoughtful.”

Will shrugged. “I’m thoughtful when it comes to you,” he said. “But it’s funny. Shouldn’t you be more used to the cold?”

Hannibal shook his head _no_.

“Why not? Baltimore was a long way from the tropics.”

“I always s-stayed inside as much as p-possible,” Hannibal said. “I c-can’t tolerate winter.”

Will settled back onto the ground next to him. “But I’ve seen you outdoors in the winter plenty of times.”

“I was good at hiding my agony,” Hannibal returned.

“Your shivers are gone.”

A smirk tugged at the corners of Hannibal’s lips. “The blanket did its job. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Will took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I like it here.”

Hannibal drew the blanket tighter. “Here as in where?”

“Alaska. This campsite. With you. Take your pick.” Will’s smile had fallen away, but only in reverence of the display in the night sky. And besides, being around Hannibal always made him smile on the inside anyway. “I’m fond of winter,” he said, “because we met in winter. Do you remember?”

“What a silly question. Of course I remember.”

Will shrugged again. “It was right around this time, actually. January, I think? Wasn’t it January?”

“February,” Hannibal corrected. “February third.”

“So you really do remember.” Will thought for a second as he watched the streams of light dance in the air. “I have good memories of us in winter. Solving crimes, saving lives…”

“Some of those crimes were my own, you know,” Hannibal said grimly.

Will shook his head. “They’re behind you now. No need to think about them.”

“But I do. Unfortunately I think of them every day.”

“Are you saying you regret them?” Will asked.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly,” Will said.

Hannibal paused. “I’d like to say that I do. I know that would please you. But my crimes were necessary to fill my empty heart.”

“You’ve never mentioned an empty heart before.”

“I’m trying to say… How should I put this? I have certain inborn needs. My existence isn’t complete without filling it somehow, and killing seemed to be the best way.”

“Seemed to be?”

“At the time,” Hannibal said. “But I’ve found a better alternative now.” He struggled free of the blanket and reached out to touch Will’s arm.

Will brought his hand up to link his fingers through Hannibal’s. “That’s a nice thought,” he said. “But isn’t it a little cliché? I mean, me fixing your heart? It sounds trite.”

Hannibal squeezed his hand. “There’s nothing cliché or trite about us. We’re entirely improbable. We’re a murderer and a federal agent on the lam thousands of miles from home.”

“Except none of that is true.”

“Isn’t it?”

“We’re not away from home; this is our home now. And as far as the rest is concerned, well, I’m not with the Bureau anymore, and you’re not a murderer.”

“We can’t gloss over my nature.”

They’d had this exchange too many times, but Hannibal really did need frequent reassurance, so Will played along. “When was the last time you actually killed anyone?” he asked. He always posed the same question when Hannibal was like this.

“You should know. We slew him together.”

“So it’s been months. You left your _murderer_ label behind you on that cliff. And—” Will cut off his own sentence. He wasn’t sure why at first, but after a second or two he realized he had something to say other than the usual script. His expression turned more serious than it had in weeks. He’d been meaning to bring this up for a while, and the time felt right, even if it derailed the comforting act he put on so often. So he said, “You’re right. I pretend, but I can’t fully gloss over the way you used to be. I have to accept that part of you. I have no choice. It’s written in the scar on my belly.”

Hannibal cringed away. Will had almost never talked to him about that night, and never as directly as he was now. “You know I wasn’t in my right mind—“

Will interrupted him. “No, listen to me. I’ve been thinking, and I’ve realized you never meant to hurt me. Not exactly. You were just making me yours in the only way you knew how. Isn’t that right?”

“I’ve done a fair bit of thinking of my own, and I’ve come to the same conclusion.” Hannibal paused. “I’m so very sorry, Will.”

“There’s no need,” Will said. “No one else would understand it like I do, but I know you only did it because you cared for me. If you hadn’t you would’ve left without me when I told you to. It was your… unique way of handling emotions you didn’t understand.”

“Unique. That’s one way of putting it.”

Will leaned forward to give him a light kiss. “Don’t worry so much,” he said, smiling again now. “You’re just you, and what’s done is done. What we have now is what matters.”

“And we have each other now,” Hannibal said, completing Will’s thought.

“Yeah.”

Hannibal kissed him this time. It was a stronger kiss—a longer one, with more motion, but still tender in its own way. “I don’t deserve you,” Hannibal said when they parted.

Will moved a little closer and laid his head on Hannibal’s shoulder. “Maybe not, but you still have me.”

“I’m more thankful for that with each passing day.” He leaned his head to rest his cheek against Will’s hair.

They stayed like that for quite some time, just watching the lights in silence and enjoying the feeling of being so near to each other.

Eventually Hannibal broke the quiet. “You said earlier that I only did what I did that night because I cared,” he said. “That’s not the case.”

Will pulled away to look at him. “It’s not?”

“No. I didn’t merely care about you. I loved you, even then. The word didn’t occur to me at the time, but I felt the emotion, and I couldn’t bear the thought of…”

“Of what?” Will prodded.

“I’ve never told you this. I never thought I would, but… I was afraid if I left without you you’d forget about me one day. That’s what I couldn’t bear the thought of.”

“So you left me marked instead.”

“Yes. And… not only you.”

Will settled back into Hannibal’s shoulder. “Abigail,” he said in a weak voice. “I wish she could be here.”

“What do you suppose she would think of us as a couple?”

“I suppose she’d be happy for us,” Will said.

“I believe the same.”

“I wonder if she’s up there somewhere,” Will said.

“You mean among the lights?”

“It seems as good a place as any for a soul to go, doesn’t it?”

Hannibal kissed the top of Will’s head. “It does. Let’s say she’s with the lights.”

“Even if she’s not,” Will said, “every now and then we should drive out here and imagine her in the sky. It’s a nice idea, you know? Her memory deserves something beautiful.”

“I think it’s a fine idea.”

They stayed like that—leaning against each other, sharing the occasional kiss, the occasional hushed whisper—all the way until sunrise.

Hannibal held Will’s hand on the drive back to town. Will drifted off into a contented sleep somewhere along the way, and Hannibal watched him for a while after he parked. And as he watched, he knew he wanted nothing more than to remain in this little Alaskan port town, living out his days with the handsome man in his passenger seat.


End file.
